


seek refuge from the storm

by calibriluu



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: F/F, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Storms, slight angst with a side of extreme awkwardness, what else should i tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-08 21:39:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12262593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calibriluu/pseuds/calibriluu
Summary: Mary is scared of storms, and perhaps her love for Natalya Rostova as well.





	seek refuge from the storm

**Author's Note:**

> The first fic I write for the Great Comet in which Natasha and Mary are awkward beans and almost wrote it for Sonya because I can't chose between Sonyamary and Marynat.  
> Also completely unedited, feel free to point out mistakes. It really helps. :D

Thunder echoed in the distance, the curtains slightly ajar in Bald Hills.

Mary Bolkonskaya shivered in her thin clothes as she climbed out of her blankets to fetch a cup of water for herself. She flinched as another blast of lightning rippled in the sky.

It was her luck that her father was sound asleep. Mary could ride out the storm in her room without worrying about anything in particular.

Another boom of thunder surprised Mary, almost dropping her mug. She'd wondered why she had such an unreasonable fear for storms. They simply frightened her, and no matter how many times Mary prayed, God was not helping her with this.

Maybe it was because thunder reminded her of her father's own thunderous voice. Maybe it was because the only real family she had, her brother Andrei, had left on a rainy evening. Or it was just simply a very odd form of anxiety Mary had.

In the living area, she stared ominously out the window. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, but it wasn't quite raining yet.

Perhaps she could go run some errands before it rained. Mary placed her cup on the side table and gathered up her wits, snagging a shawl from her room.

Stepping outside, a cold wind passed over her and she held the shawl closer to her. She was most definitely not prepared for this, but it was too late to go back now. Mary hurried to the doctor where she received Prince Bolkonsky's medicine.

Trekking along the cobblestone path, she yelped as bright flashes zigzagged around. _Keep it together, nothing shall happen to you Mary, nothing whatsoever_ , she thought as the wind got stronger.

Deciding that the best way to get back to the manor was to run, Mary leapt over the stones, the few people on the streets wondering what crank ol' Bolkonsky's daughter was doing prancing around the streets.

She squeaked as she ran right into Natasha Rostova, slipping and falling on her hands. The other girl was slightly dazed, but held Mary's hand to lift her up. A faint red colored her pale cheeks.

" Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry Mary! Are you alright?" Natasha apologized.

" Uh, n-no, it-it's okay Tasha. I-I was the one who was running into you." Mary tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She gazed at the bag of herbs and medicines, luckily intact.

" Oh Mary, you were in a rush, right? I'm just avoiding my family right now, I have no real reason to be out in the coming storm." Speaking of the storm, it started to lightly drizzle. The droplets splashed on their uncovered heads, slowly soaking them.

" How are you still mad at them? I thought you'd have forgiven them by now," she said, mildly surprised.

" I-I got into, well, another fight with Sonya. I feel so bad now! She's always kind and looks over me but I just, well I feel _horrible_."

" Natasha, you don't seem alright. Do you want to me walk you-" Mary yelped as a lightning crossed the sky, followed by thunderclaps.

She dropped the her father's medicine, and instinctively jumped into Natasha's arms.

" Wha-" Natasha clamped her mouth shut as she started to blush from the close contact with Mary. Closer than what should be deemed friendship.

Mary quietly stayed in her grip, her body still shaking a little.

" Oh, Mary are you alright? We could head to your manor, it's a lot closer." Mary loosened herself from the hug, her face flushing crimson. Natasha immediately felt guilty, for she had caught Mary at a bad time and probably embarrassed her.

The rain had gotten heavier, and without any further comment, they raced to Bald Hills, both of them tripping over the slippery surface. A feeling of shame washed over Mary. Her fear of storms must have branded her as a cuckold to Natasha.

Heaving for breaths, they paused at the door as Mary fished out the keys. 

" Natasha, please stay in the kitchen, I can go fetch some towels and clothes for you."

" N-no! I-I'm f-f-fine, I can g-go get th-them m-myself." She shivered as water dripped off her soaked clothes. Mary tossed the medicine on the counter, to use later when she could get her father tea.

" Y-you sound so cold! You need them more than I do." Mary peered down at her own dress, not mentioning that the cold was piercing her bones.

" I will come with you then, Princess Mary." Natasha seized her hand and started to sprint upstairs, leaving a trail of water behind her as well as a squeaking Mary.

" Where's the bathroom? Or your room?" She whispered, not wanting to wake up Bolkonsky. 

Mary was a little too busy fretting about her terrible love for her, and the fact that Natasha was considerate enough to remember her father and get the towels herself. Also the fact that she wasn't judging her for her reaction to storms and currently holding her hand.

" Er, um, we're standing next to it."

" D-do you mind me going in there?" Mary fervently shook her head and then opened the door.

Mary darted out to snatch the towels from one of the hallway cabinets, ignoring her own problem as the storm outside grew stronger and thunder started to boom more often.

She came back to the room with a bundle of towels to see Natasha shucking off her coat and dress, leaving her in underthings and a thin layer of lace covering it.

Poor Mary nearly dropped to the floor and her eyes started to run over Natasha while attempting to convince her self to simply _stop thinking about **those** things._

_If Mary had been blushing earlier, her face was now scarlet, a feat for someone even as pale-skinned as her._

She tried to tell  the Rostova that they had their towels and unfortunately only came out as a sputter.

" Oh! I-I, um, uh, eh, ergh!" Natasha faltered, trying to apologize for undressing in her friend's room. _Oh no, Mary must hate me now. Why can't you be a good person for once Natasha? For once!_

" Here," Mary murmured, tossing two towels at Natasha and not making any eye contact. She also didn't mind as Natasha's clothes made a puddle on the floor.

" Oh, thank you." Natasha said quietly.

Mary fled her room, entering another to curl in a pile of towels, not willing to go into her own room to change out of the thin dress. She gasped and shook from the chills and thunder. She couldn't even fathom what would happen if _her father woke right now_.

Sniffling, the only comfort was that Natasha was here, that Natasha cared about her even just a little. Maybe not anymore, since Mary had basically seen her naked. Even worse, she should not feel such guilt. _It's not like I was looking at a man, I was looking at **her**. Whywhywhywhywhy? Sinful, they would call me._

There was a soft knock on the door, followed by a guilty voice. That was a little strange, coming from Natasha. 

" Mary, I'm so sorry for being such...such an unseemly guest to you, especially since you offered me hospitality and allowed me shelter in your house. I just, ugh. Please come out. Or maybe I'm talking to myself and you're in a different room."

She was shocked that it was _Natasha_ that was sorry, and kept the towels bundled around her as Mary turned the lock and doorknob.

Outside the room stood her, wrapped in one of Mary's blankets and a quickly reddening face. Quite a feat for someone as dark-skinned as her.

" Do you need any help with changing?" Natasha blurted, standing awkwardly in the doorframe. 

" Er, yes I think I do. My dress feels as if it were sticking to my skin, a little strange right?" Mary replied nervously.

Natasha tied a blanket around herself, too embarrassed to show her undergarments. She unbuttoned the back of Mary's dress, the sleeves slowly slipping off her.

Mary shivered, not because of the cold, but because she could just _feel_ Natasha's fingers graze her back and it felt like fire was touching her.

The fabric slithered off of her and was once again surprised that Natasha had actually brought her another dress to wear, her nightgown. It was one of the few things that she was comfortable in. That also meant that she had dug through Mary's closet, most likely seeing how few things she owned; Mary internally cringed at the thought.

" Here, I thought that you'd need a change of clothes, I mean, anyone with sense think so really." That was false, as no one but the Rostova took any care to her but the maid and Andrei.

It was a silent process of clumsily climbing into a new set of clothes, hardly bothering to swap out anything underneath. A few minutes later, they were relaxing on Mary's bed, with Natasha curled in a bathrobe since Mary had nothing of her size. 

The storm outside had reduced to a quiet pitter-patter once more and the sun was almost setting, which meant explained why they were hungry with stomachs growling.

" Mashen'ka?" Mary turned her head over, blushing even harder from hearing an incredibly affectionate version of her name.

" I just want to tha-uh, are you okay? Your face seems to be getting red an awful-" Natasha's words were suddenly cut off by a pair of lips crashing into hers.

A blur of thoughts ran through them, both dazed by the feeling. Natasha had kissed before, but never like this. It was, different. Better, more passionate. Mary was trembling on top of her, her hands shaking on either side of her.

Comprehending what she had just done, Mary pulled away, a hand reaching toward freshly-kissed lips with someone else's lipstick on her. ( someone else's! )

" Oh, oh my goodness, I should not have done that have I." She had a distracted gaze in her eyes, worrying Natasha. Then Natasha laughed, Mary looking even more mortified at her actions.

" No! No! It's not you, just, Ithinkthisfeelsveryniceweshouldtryitagain," she breathed out, the one on top attempting to grasp what Natasha said. She giggled again, bringing her hands around Mary's neck and meeting halfway for another kiss.

Slower this time, Mary nibbled a little on Natasha's lip and she squeaked, a little more than surprised that it was _Mary_ that was being bold. Her hand slipped up Masha's chest, reluctant to go any farther. She groaned from the contact, lowering herself into Natasha's hold, almost tumbling off her torso.

They paused to take a breath, Mary resting her head on her shoulder, Natasha's hair still damp. Too many thoughts raced in her mind. The only thing really processing for her was _how is this happening? How could I have never done this before?_

" This is better than what the romance books say." Natasha laughed in her ear, the sound like bells to Mary. A stomach growl startled them, and mutually decided that if they cuddle until Prince Bolkonsky's voice shook the Bald Hills and skip supper, then that was _exactly_ what they would do.

Natasha twisted her hands into Mary's hair, undoing a leftover braid and kissed her once more, Mary moaning quietly into her mouth. 

A grumpy yowl and pattering footsteps came from downstairs as Mary sighed and rolled out of bed. She peered at her reflection, trying not to gawk at her appearance and lips. Lips especially.

" I..."

" Mary, go take care of, well, you father or whatever you'd like to call that horrid man. Please, I don't like to see you get hurt." She rubbed her arm where a bruise was and got her slippers on, almost forgetting the puddles on the floor. The servant had probably cleaned it up by now.

" And, I guess, if you get scared by the thunder, just remember I'm here?" she tried before grinning awkwardly at Mary

Natasha and her stared at each other with glowing eyes, shyly waving a goodbye as she exited the room. 

Natalya Rostova laid in bed, wondering how she was going to deal with the soft warmth in her chest when she finally grasped what was happening to her.

She hadn't felt like this, not with Andrei, and not with Anatole. Not with anyone else, nonetheless with a girl she once hated.

It was love, and caring for someone that no else could care more about than herself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> what the fuck to I know about love, hmu on @thesselsewhere on tumblr to send prompts for any tgc ship or just spam my inbox with trash, both are good options


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